


The Best Boy Scout

by CrackingLamb



Series: One Shot Wonders, A Collection of Junkyard Dogs Stories [8]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 16:24:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14109342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrackingLamb/pseuds/CrackingLamb
Summary: Hancock has a project...





	The Best Boy Scout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iron_Angel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iron_Angel/gifts).



> For gifts without price, and friendship despite miles.

“Is the tower finished?” Nora asked Hancock as he bustled into the house, covered in sawdust and grime, but still his swaggering, sexy king of the ghouls self. He’d changed from his usual frockcoat get up to road leathers, and they hung on him. She wanted to giggle at the sight he made – he was far too thin to look good in road leathers – but she would never do it. He had enough self-esteem issues on his own without her adding to them. That would just be cruel, even in jest.

“Almost,” he replied to her, intent upon finding something. He dug through their traveling box, the place where they kept their backpacks and gear for when they were on the road, until he found his old sleeping bag and hefted it in his hands. “Just putting the finishing touches on it now.”

“And how is a sleeping bag a finishing touch?” she asked, raising a brow over the reading glasses she wore as she went through reports from her settlements. She was recovering from injuries…again… and it was as good a time to look these over as any.

“You’ll see,” he promised and dashed out again. She heard the familiar rattle of a bottle of pills in his pocket too, and levered herself up from her desk to look out the open door to see what he was up to. Why did he need chems at the top of the tower?

The new tower was built on top of the marketplace in the center of Sanctuary Hills, spiraling up four full stories into the open sky, with a turret at the top and railings all around so no one dropped to an ignominious death from the heights. _That would be me_ , she mused to herself. Hancock was forever exasperated with her overall tendency towards injury, but he was good-natured about it.

“Not everyone is as indestructible as me,” he had said as he stitched her up, giving her Med-X for the pain and a stimpak to accelerate healing. “You gotta stop acting like you are. I swear, you’re gonna give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way,” she’d retorted as he put the last bandage around her shoulder. This time it had been a mutant hound bite, but the time before that had been buckshot from a raider’s double barrel in her leg, and the time before that was a huge contusion from a baseball bat in her ribs, and the time before that…

“You’re right. I still prefer you in one piece, if you don’t mind. The only one missing parts is gonna be me.”

“I think you haven’t reattached that toe just so you can brag about it,” she’d teased, then hissed as he pulled the bandage tight on her arm so it would stay in place.

“You take it easy, now, Sunshine. Preston and I will finish the tower.”

The super mutant attack had come out of nowhere, halfway through their building project. And of course, nothing else would do but to stop what they were doing to take care of it. Nora knew she didn’t have to jump for her gun every time the settlement was invaded by something from the wasteland, but her instinct to protect her people was stronger than her sense. It didn’t matter that they were armed as well as she could make them; she still felt it was her duty to step in and defend them. Three super mutants and two mutant hounds later, and she was sitting in her tank top as Hancock stitched up the nasty bite – after cleaning it out with some concoction he’d invented with Mary, their medic – and she was relegated to watching others do the work. He hadn’t even copped a feel, not that she was complaining about his worry for her safety.

Oh, hell, maybe she was. She was a big girl, after all – wasn’t she General Howard of the Minutemen? – and getting felt up by Hancock was always a worthwhile endeavor, no matter how much pain she was in.

Now she stood in her doorway and looked up to see Hancock racing up the stairs two at a time. He spread out the sleeping bag on the top level and stood there, king of the mountain attitude clear in his stance. She shook her head and grinned to herself. He was like a child sometimes, full of joy and exuberance.

She knew she was partly responsible for that. She felt sometimes like she’d given him a new lease on life, just as he had given her one. She’d never imagined life without Nate, never dreamed of the horrors that awaited her after the Vault. She never, in a million years, would have dreamed that she’d love a junkie ghoul more than life itself. Love like theirs was rare in the Commonwealth, and she never took it for granted. She caught herself twisting her ring around on her finger as she watched him, her ghoul lover. Her _husband_ , in deed if not by law.

“Hey, Sunshine!” his voice floated down to her from the tower top. Passersby in the street looked up at the ghoul standing with his arms outflung and smiled. He had become as much a part of her community as she had become part of Goodneighbor. “Get up here! You gotta see this view!”

She snorted, but she crossed the road from her house and climbed the stairs just the same. She took her time, knowing if she didn’t, she’d likely pull at the stitches in her shoulder, although already the pain had dissipated and they itched more than ached. Stimpaks were such a blessing.

“Ya never think about how the body works together, til it don’t,” he’d once said to her after she complained about how an injury in one place made everything else hurt. He'd gotten more liberal with the stimpak use with her after the first few times she'd gotten hurt. Now it was pretty commonplace to find more of them in his pockets than any other chem. At the top, he was there to meet her, helping her up the last few steps and into his embrace.

“You did it, Sunshine. I didn’t honestly think you’d come up all those stairs just for me.”

“Yes you did,” she retorted and he grinned.

“Just couldn’t keep away, huh?” She ignored him and stood at the railing along the edge of the highest platform, gazing south. She could clearly see the central power pylon of the Abernathy’s farm. Near that was an old water tower, and closer still was the spire of the Red Rocket Truck Stop. A dip in the landscape disguised most of Concord, but she knew it was there. Just on the horizon she could see the Prydwen, hanging over the airport. Turning around to face the north, she could see the remains of the big vehicles and outbuildings near the Vault 111 entrance, and the mountains beyond. The late autumn colors were glorious, masking the devastation that still remained on the ground, where twisted tree trunks and mutated plant life struggled to grow. The air was chilly, and she shivered a little, but it couldn’t detract from the breathtaking panorama.

“Wow,” she breathed.

“Hell of a view,” Hancock said, but when she turned to reply, she saw he wasn’t looking out at the scenery; he was looking at her. She leaned into him and they kissed sweetly. A rumble in the distance and a sharp uptake in the wind drew her away from him to look southwest. A greenish smear of clouds marred the horizon. “Mm, feel that?”

“No, I’m not a ghoul. I don’t have extra sensory radiation perception. It’s enough that you feel it.”

“One last thing to put up,” he said, hanging a bell from the upright post of the tower. He rang it hard, and the clarion sound filled the air as settlers looked up to see. “Radstorm comin’!” he shouted down to the street level.

People scattered to the basement bunker Nora had expanded and refitted as a storm shelter from the deadly atomic storms that swept up out of the Glowing Sea on a fairly regular basis. Most people kept some Rad-X and RadAway with them at all times, but in her own home settlement she’d wanted somewhere safe for her people to go, too. Hancock had indirectly given her the idea for it, since the underground Third Rail served that purpose in Goodneighbor. She had very pleasant memories of that night, so long ago it seemed, although it had only been August. The primal beauty of the radstorm, Hancock’s roughened hands and mouth on her skin, her bent over the railing of the balcony at the State House…

A rattle of pills in her ear brought her back to the present. “Wanna take a chem break?” he purred in her ear.

Her knees nearly gave out. His voice never failed to make her weak and fluttery, never failed to make her so ready for whatever adventure he had in mind for her body. And he was creative, oh, was he creative.

“Is that why there’s a sleeping bag up here, my love?” she asked archly. He grinned, his black eyes glittering with lascivious mirth. He shook out a Rad-X and put it in her mouth, making sure she’d swallowed it before he kissed her hard.

“What was it you told me? 'A good boy scout is always prepared'.” He had his self-satisfied look on again, and she just melted.

“And you’re the best boy scout,” she murmured, letting him pull her away from the railing and down onto the sleeping bag. “The absolute best.” She wrapped her arms around his neck, careful with her bad shoulder. “What else can you do?”

“Well, let me show you.”

He laid her down gently, bunching the sleeping bag under her neck to support her head and take pressure off her shoulder. With a crafty half smile he unbuttoned her flannel and spread it open, spanning her ribs with his hand on her tank top. He never stopped looking at her as he stripped her slowly while the radstorm blew in, turning the brilliant fall day murky and green hued. Each bolt of lightning made him shudder against her, made him moan a little under his breath. She pulled him up to her and kissed him, mouth open and welcoming. His heat washed over her, keeping the chill wind at bay.

“Why is it always so good between us?” she whispered when he pulled away to tug at his road leathers.

“Because we fit,” he replied.

“I love you so, John.”

He paused and cradled her face in his hands. “No more than I love you, Sunshine.”

“I feel like I don't tell you that enough.”

“You tell me plenty. You don't always need to use words...” He trailed his fingertips down her tank, chuckling as his touch made her nipples stand up against the thin fabric. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, reveling in his weight on her as the storm continued around them. Green flashes backlit his face and the rumbles of thunder shook the tower and Hancock slipped between her thighs to enter her as slowly as he could, filling her until she was gasping.

He sat back on his heels and looked down at her sprawled form, moving in her so slowly it was torture. He grinned as she whined and tossed her head and begged him to go faster, harder....more. He hitched her legs up over his hips and spread her wide as he knelt on the floor of the tower, barely touching her anywhere else. She hadn't thought the slow pace would feel so incredible and before she knew it, she was tipping over the edge of her orgasm, gasping in shock as it hit her like a never ending wave.

“Jesus...Hancock...”

“Oh, I ain't done yet,” he growled, bending over her body and tunneling his hands under her shoulders to lift her up until she straddled him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he pumped back and forth in her willing body. Her shoulder forgotten, she braced herself against tower railing and rocked her body on him, watching his eyes glaze over in the green light of the storm. The wind changed pitch, bringing with it the scent of rain under the buzz of radiation and before long cold, fat drops hit her in the face. She giggled and buried her face in his neck, feeling his urgency increase as she rode him.

“Now, John,” she whispered in his ear and he groaned, thrusting harder, his hands gripping her thighs to keep her in place.

She tipped her head into the rain, not caring that it was icy, not caring that the radstorm was passing and the thunder was the regular kind now. The settlers would be coming out of the bunker she'd built them, but she didn't care about that either. All that mattered was that Hancock was inside her, his heart hammering under her hands, his breath in her ear. And he was so close...so close.

He fell over her, dropping her back onto the sleeping bag, as he came with a shout. She could feel him filling her up with a slight burn as her Rad-X wore off. She arched into his touch, never wanting it to end. But it was raining harder now, settling in for a good soaking, and she knew they shouldn't stay out in it.

“I guess we christened this tower good and proper,” she teased when they drew apart to try and dress in wet clothes.

“Heh,” Hancock laughed.

They started down the spiraling stairs of the tower, hoping to avoid running into any settlers before they could get in her house. There, at the bottom, they found a pair of blankets. Nora frowned; she didn't remember seeing those when she went up. Hancock was laughing again and she looked at him questioningly.

“I think Preston must have been a boy scout too,” he said, wrapping one of them around her, sealing her in a woolen cocoon. He threw the other one around himself. Not that he really needed it, but she knew he wasn't given to showing off much of his skin in front of strangers if he could help it.

Giggling like children, they ran across the muddy road to her house and shut the door on the rain, and the shocked faces that saw them, half dressed and bedraggled. And long into that rainy night, Nora showed Hancock what a good _girl_ scout could do.

**Author's Note:**

> This scene has been written for a while, but there was just no place for it in my ongoing opus concerning the Sole Survivor and her raisin king. I would imagine the Boy Scouts are a thing of the past and something Hancock would not be familiar with, but Nora of course could explain the finer points (I imagine Nate had probably been one, upright citizen that he was). As usual Hancock twists things to suit himself, but it works out well for everyone in the end, doesn’t it? 
> 
> This takes place sometime before the events of Chapter 19 - Sacrifice, if you’re keeping track with Junkyard Dogs.
> 
> Incidentally, this work marks my 20th piece here on AO3. Thanks for all the love these last 6 months (wow, already?), it means the world to me.


End file.
